


Bang

by fuzzybatbutts



Series: Lessons To Be Learned [14]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Abuse, Action, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Cliffhangers, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eye Trauma, Gore, Graphic Description, Gun Violence, Gunshot Wounds, M/M, Mild Gore, Nonbinary Character, Other, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Psychological Trauma, Punishment, Self-Esteem Issues, The Author Regrets Nothing, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Violence, Whump, heh, not as much as usual, not really but if youre extra squeamish yknow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:41:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22331302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzybatbutts/pseuds/fuzzybatbutts
Summary: Bloodhound and Elliott return to the ring, this time with Anita on their team. They're the squad to eliminate, and the stakes are higher than ever before.
Relationships: Bloodhound/Mirage | Elliott Witt
Series: Lessons To Be Learned [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1330520
Comments: 12
Kudos: 51





	Bang

**Author's Note:**

> Hi please note that in my version, once you die in the games, you're dead for good. None of that bloodsport with no actual risk nonsense. Also please read the end authors notes!!!!!

“Nervous?”

Elliott scoffed. “Who, me? Nah, I’m doing great. Nervous? I mean, what does that word even mean?”

Bloodhound nodded their head slowly and turned their attention back to the crowd of people. The dropship was packed as usual, with too many bodies in too confined of a space. Former champions had their own seating area, but they could still see the rest of the competitors milling about, joking with the members of their squad or introducing themselves to random people. 

Elliott had never understood the purpose of cramming everyone together like that. The games had special events that were non-lethal, and people would often participate in large teams for the friendly competition, but this wasn’t one of those. After it was all said and done, at least fifty-seven of these people were going to die. Fifty-seven people who’d be sent home in a shroud, all laughing and joking around despite their circumstances. It was strange to think that one of these people could be the one pointing a gun at his own head, or that he’d no idea how many he’d cut down before the game was over. Friends from back home would ask him how he could participate in bloodsport so casually, parading around and cracking jokes while blowing someone’s brains out like it was nothing to him. 

He wasn’t heartless, but he also wasn’t stupid. Some of the people competing were truly homicidial, and they wouldn’t lose any sleep at night if they put him down first. There was a lot of glamor that came along with the games, but at the end of the day it was kill or be killed. They managed to take the initial sting out of it with all the fame that came along with being a champion, which meant that characters like his could thrive on the controversy. He knew some people found it disturbing, but he’d rather they’d see a pretty boy flashing a smile than ask him about his life before the games. It was a distraction, for both his teammates and himself. He’d wanted an escape from home, and what better distraction then the idea that death could come at any moment? 

He told interviewers it was for attention, but sometimes he felt like the Mirage persona was as much of an escape for him as it was viewers. His legacy as the last son of Evelyn Witt gave him something to build on, and it was easier to flirt with reporters than consider why he was really competing. At home he had a sick mother and the ghosts of his brothers haunting him, but in the arena he was a  _ king _ . There was no time for grief or mental exhaustion when he was running around with a peacekeeper on his back, and the physical pain of his muscles screaming at him was a break from the misery that hung in a cloud around him. He could actually feel useful when he was pulling a teammate from the brink of death, and there was no better high than the adrenaline coursing through him when he had to dodge a hail of gunfire. The nightmares that came with the many close encounters and lost teammates were better than the insomnia, because at least he’d gotten some sleep before waking up with his heart pounding in his chest. 

Trying not to think was usually impossible for him. His mind was always racing, always recalling some past event for him to regret, or pulling up some old memories that made his heart ache. It was exhausting, but he’d grown accustomed to it after years and years of dealing with himself. It was a way of life, constantly searching for the next distraction, then abandoning it when it stopped working. He’d tried everything recommended to him, but meditation gave him more time alone with himself than he needed and hobbies never really stuck. People were the best distraction, because people came with their own piles of bullshit, and it was nice to hear someone else’s problems for a change. The part of the persona that wasn’t a lie was that he did love to talk, but sometimes it was nice to sit and listen. 

“I admit Elliott, I do not fully believe you.”

Bloodhound’s voice still had a special way of cutting through the haze. He laughed, but cringed when it sounded too forced. “And what gives you that idea?”

Hound turned to look at him, and he could picture the sly grin that they were wearing underneath the mask. “You are an awful liar.”

Elliott put his hand on his chest in mock offense. “My lying skills are perfect, thank you very much. In fact, I’m offended that you suggest otherwise.” 

“Perhaps if you improved your skills, I would not have to.”

Elliott narrowed his eyes at them. “Did… did you just tell me to ‘get good’ in some weird roundabout way?”

Hound shrugged and turned back towards the sea of people, all crammed together in the small space. “Perhaps. I also do need to talk to you about something.”

Panic flared up in his gut. “Yeah?”

“It is about my expectations of you during the match.” 

Their tone had cooled considerably, void of the mirth that had been present only moments before. Elliott felt his heart sink, and he resisted the urge to sigh. Whenever Hound would humor him and actually joke around, he always got his hopes up that the moment would last for longer. They were fun to talk with, and although half the time they were laughing at his expense, it reminded him of how Anita would poke fun at him sometimes too. He loved the attention, and it felt good knowing that he could sometimes make them laugh. 

But that would always eventually slip away. It was like they’d come to their senses, like they’d been reminded that laughing wasn’t permitted and they’d quickly go back to their usual quiet self. They acted like casual conversation was a shameful thing to do, and it bothered him more than it probably should. 

“What’s up?”

Hound folded their hands together and straightened, everything about them meaning business. “I do not want a repeat of the last time we were together in the ring, which means when I tell you to do something, you do it. We may not have the time for me to explain everything, so your attention being on me is paramount.”

Elliott’s hand reflexively went to his scar. “Yeah, I’d rather not go through that again.”

“Then we are in agreement. You understand that Anita being present changes nothing, correct?”

“Yes.”

Some of the tension seemed to leave them. “Good. I am trusting you to talk freely so that you can act as naturally as possible. I do not want Anita to suspect anything.”

He still felt guilty about having to hide such a massive secret from someone he called a friend, but he could reason it away because he knew it would make his life a whole lot harder if she knew. It was for the best, but it didn’t make him feel any less shitty about it in the meantime though. 

He swallowed. “Yeah, I’d rather not have her breathing down my neck.”

“Then it is good we are in agreement.” 

“What about you?”

“Hm?”

Elliott wrung his hands together, trying to distract himself so the nerves wouldn’t suffocate him entirely. “Are you nervous?”

Hound took a minute to think, and every second that ticked by made the hair on the back of Elliott’s neck stand up. He wasn’t sure if talking freely meant he was allowed questions, but he was hoping that he could cling to any remnants of the Hound he was joking with earlier to make himself more at ease. 

“I am not worried about myself, if that is what you mean.” 

“What about any of the other competitors?” he said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the bustling group of people.

“At first glance, no.”

“Yeah, we’re the only champions so I guess it shouldn’t be too bad.”

Hound turned to look at him. “Do not underestimate them, Elliott. You and I were once in their position, do not let confidence turn you foolhardy.” 

Before he could respond, Anita elbowed her way through the crowd of newcomers and took her seat next to Elliott. 

“How goes the scouting?” he asked.

Anita shrugged. “Heavier than usual on the bullshit. Squad of nothing but champions has some people pretty riled up. I wouldn’t be surprised if we have people on our asses from the moment we land.”

“Well, at least today will not be boring then.” 

Elliott was surprised to hear Hound speak without being prompted. He smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, now who’s the cocky one?”

Anita rolled her eyes. “Full offense Witt, but I think you still have a firm grasp on that title.”

“Ganging up on me already, huh?” 

“You almost make it too easy," she countered. 

**_“Approaching Dropzone.”_ **

The sound of the automated female voice blared from speakers overhead. Reflexively, all three of them jumped to their feet and quickly made their way to the drop platforms. Elliott knew from past experience that getting a headstart was crucial, unless they wanted to end up in a shithole with nothing but an Arc Star between them. 

The wind tore through Elliott’s kit like it was paper, the cold bite of it sinking deep into his bones. His stomach always dropped when the floor started moving, but the adrenaline rush was like no other and he loved it. Seeing the other squads only amped him up further, so much so that he kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other, unable to sit still. Anita was cracking her neck and Bloodhound was rolling their shoulders, fidgeting just like he was. 

**_“Dropzone Ahead.”_ **

The small device behind Elliott’s ear flared to life, projecting a small number into the corner of his vision. It displayed the number of living constants so they knew how far along into the match they were, as well as the body armor and status of his teammates. His arm still stung from the tracker, the fresh wound placed about an inch above the old bullethole. If he was lucky he’d walk away from this without gaining another ugly scar, but he had enough faith in both of his teammates that it was hard not to be overly confident. Anita knew combat like the back of her hand and the games were nothing compared to an actual warzone, and Bloodhound could move like a cat and shoot pretty damn well when they wanted to. They had him to help round out the team, finding targets for them to hose with bullets, so they were a force to be reckoned with. The newcomers weren’t going to have an easy fight on their hands, that he was certain of.

**_“Prepare To Drop.”_ **

“I’m jumpmaster,” Anita called, her voice full of brass, “We head to the swamp, unless either of you has a problem with that?”

Her tone made it obvious she wasn’t inclined to change her mind, but Elliott could see the way her face had lit up. Anita may have been a soldier, but he knew she enjoyed the games as much as he did. “No ma’am!”

She grinned and clapped Elliott on the back. “Well then, we better get moving ladies!”

With a quick shove, the floor disappeared beneath Elliott and he started falling towards the ground, a plume of blue smoke marking the air behind him. Over his shoulder, he could see Hound leap after him, streamlining their body to make up for the distance he’d put between them. Anita was last, quickly catching up until they all were flying in a v-pattern. Elliott let some of the stress stay behind on the dropship, enjoying the wind in his face as he plummeted towards the marsh below. He whooped loudly, earning a head shake from Anita that brought a smile to his own face. Hound looked to be focused on the flight, but he could see that their head was twisted slightly, watchful as ever. 

Elliott swung his feet forward as the ground grew closer and closer. He braced himself for impact and hit the ground running, taking off in the direction of one of the huts. A cursory glance over his shoulder revealed three streaks of red hot on the tails, just like Anita had anticipated. Three green kept flying over their heads, likely towards the wetlands which meant they were at risk of being flanked. Hound hit the ground with a loud splash and apparently had a similar idea to him, hopping onto one of the boardwalks and kicking in the door of a house. 

“Can you guys hear me alright?”

Anita’s voice crackled in his ear, interrupted by brief intervals of static. He could make out frustrated swearing on the other end, and he was pretty sure he could hear Hound grumbling about the shitty audio quality, too. 

“I hate these fuckin’ things. You think a billion dollar company could at least shell out for decent coms.”

Elliott laughed as he threw open the door to one of the huts. “That’s exactly their problem, they’re too busy shelling out for new suits for sponsor parties to worry about us.” 

Anita just snorted in response, so he turned his attention to the floor of the hut. He’d gotten lucky, and the purple glow of a body shield was exactly what he’d been hoping to see. There was no gun, but a shield battery was on the tarp next to it, which he eagerly shoved in his pack. 

It was a quick sprint to the next building, but he sent a decoy over the small bridge before he stepped out. No bullet whizzed through the air, so he took the chance and ran to the next bit of cover. It was a shitty wooden plank, but it was better than getting shot in the lung. He crept over to the door and peered inside, making sure no one had snuck up on the other side from the opposing team. It looked clear, so he grabbed the handle and prayed he’d find something useful on the floor this time. 

Apparently whatever god listened had been feeling merciful, as the beautiful sight of a Flatline with ammo to spare sat in the middle of the room, with a Wingman off to the side. He scooped the gun and slid the extra magazines onto his chest rig, keeping his eyes on the other door in case someone tried to get the jump on him. The Wingman sat comfortably in a holster at his hip, and he had enough ammo to refill both at least once. He could see the silhouettes of his teammates flash as they both found shields, but Anita only had a basic body one and Bloodhound’s helmet was blue. 

“Shotgun ammo here.” 

An orange light pinged over Anita’s location. Elliott couldn’t see exactly where she was through the window, but it didn’t appear to be too far ahead. He tapped his mic and stood up, peeking his head out the door trying to get a clear visual of the land. “You guys got what you need? The other squads being awfully quiet, and I don’t like it.” 

“I do not either.” 

This time it was Bloodhound’s voice, their familiar deep rumble music to his ears. 

“Hound, you and Anita stay back, let me see if I can fish them out and then you can pick them off if they fall for it.” 

“No,” interrupted Hound, “We can push them harder. Find out which house they have hidden in, and then Anita, throw your smoke. That way I can go inside and deal with them myself, and you can shoot whoever runs out. Understand?”

“Roger.”

“Heard that”

Anita was always quick to shut down any plans she thought were too risky, so her silence indicated that she had faith in their suggestion. They hadn’t gotten to practice the smoke maneuver at the range, but doing it live was better than just waiting for someone to ambush them. He didn’t like having to mow down people when they were running away, but at least his aim was good enough that he could put two in their back with relative ease if they weren’t trying to weave while they ran. 

Elliott vaulted himself over the boardwalk’s fence and kept close to the pillars, hoping the shadows of the huts would offer him a small modicum of protection. He wasn’t sure which house they were in, and sending out a decoy too early risked doing more harm than good. Focussing on both keeping his own footsteps quiet and listening for others was difficult to juggle, but once he’d gotten a sizeable distance away from the team, he sent one out in the direction of some of the buildings. Decoys were tricky, because it was easy to make them too obvious to the point where enemies didn’t even need to question whether it was real or not. That in itself could be an advantage at times, but for now he had to send it out along the path he’d follow if he was actually trying to sneak up on someone, and watch for muzzle flashes.

_ Bang! _

The image of the decoy fizzled out as a bullet buried itself into the soggy ground. 

_ Gotcha. _

“Anita, Hound, at least one of them is in the house at the edge of the bank. Only one shot, but I’d bet they’re all nearby. Get over here before they find me.” 

“Elliott, what did it sound like? I need to know what I am walking into.”

“Something loud, heavy ammo for sure. It’s only the one shot, so it could be a Flatline.” 

“Or a hemlock that’s been set to single shot,” Anita chimed in, “Either way, you’ll have to be careful.” 

“I appreciate the concern, but I will be fine. Focus on the smoke so they do not pin down Elliott’s location.” 

“On it.” 

Elliott’s heart started to beat faster as footsteps rattled the boards above him, thundering across the planks as they groaned in protest. Anita caused enough of a racket to distract them from Hound creeping around back; he heard the smoke canister hiss as it left the launcher, landing underneath the house and working its way through the floorboards. A few panicked shots were fired, but Anita was already hoofing it back to cover, so they missed completely. 

“Witt, watch the right, I got the left. Hound, you’re good to go.”

“Understood.”

A bright flash of red shot across the ground, lighting up the three bodies crammed inside the house. Frantic shouting echoed through the swamps as the squad tried to figure out what was going on, but the sound of a door being kicked in cut them off. Elliott couldn’t see anything through the smoke, but the familiar sounds of a Peacekeeper filled the air, and he couldn’t help but wince. He kept his gun raised and looked down the iron sights, making a mental note to ask for a scope once this was over. Two shots, and then the number in the corner of his vision dropped. Hound had gotten two of them, but the third must have slipped past them while Hound was executing their squadmates. 

The smoke broke in front of him, and Elliott pivoted until the enemy’s body was in his sights. He exhaled quickly and squeezed the trigger, hugging it close to his body to absorb the recoil. The bullets found their target perfectly. They dropped hard, and he ran up to them before they could get their knockdown shield up. The second shots went through their neck and upper chest, but the number disappeared from his screen almost instantly after. 

He didn’t want to let himself be near the body for too long. Guilt had a way of creeping into him if he lingered for too long, especially if they appeared to be younger than he was. A quick patdown of the body revealed a phoenix kit he took for himself, and some light ammo that he called out for his team. 

Elliott jogged back towards the house, watching for anyone attracted by the noise. There was a certain brand of competitor that Anita had dubbed ‘Vultures’, squads that followed stronger ones around and picked up the gear they left behind instead of risking combat themselves. They were exceedingly annoying, but he was relieved when the hills around them seemed empty enough.

Hound and Anita were picking through the bodies in the house when he arrived, passing items back and forth. They spun quickly on their heels the second they heard him coming, but he raised his arms defensively, “Woah there, just me.”

“Call out next time you try and sneak up on me, yes?”

He tried not to flinch at how annoyed they sounded. “Yeah, sorry. That was dumb.”

“Yes it was.” 

He resisted the urge to be childish and stick his tongue out at them when they had their back turned. No friendly fire was a luxury they’d been given by the games organizers, but it was still a waste of bullets, which he suspected was what they were worried about. 

“Aw come on Hound,” Anita teased, “Give the guy a break-”

“Thank you!”

“-he was probably too busy trying to admire his reflection in the water. Poor guy’s got half a brain cell, you can’t expect him to multitask.” 

Elliott made a rude gesture in her direction. “Y’know what, fuck you both. I don’t need to put up with this.” 

“Oh no,” said Hound, dramatically, “Now he is pouting. Anita, what horror have you subjected us to now?”

He glared at both of them. “How is it that I managed to find not one, but two teammates who are total assholes?”

Anita shrugged. “I suppose you have to be good at something, y’know, statistically.” 

“I’m gonna shoot both of you in the foot when this is all over.”

“Not if we shoot you first.” 

_

“Hound, you got a visual?”

“Coast appears to be clear on my end. You should be clear to come through.”

Elliott dropped the magazine on his gun and swapped it out for a new one, discarding the old one by chucking it over his shoulder. He’d burned through more ammo than he’d hoped for when chasing down the squad that had landed in behind them. They’d been in hot pursuit all the way across the canyon, following the ring and trying to keep up with the squad. They’d seen them coming from the start and had tried to run away, but Anita could only put one of them down before they scattered. They didn’t know where the other two had gone off to, so Hound had looped through the Pit to check and see if there was a gunman posted on the bridge higher up. Elliott and Anita were left to their own devices, monitoring Artillery for others coming along the same route. 

The final ring was looking like it would be near Airbase, so they’d have the advantage if they got there before anyone else did. Airbase was a tricky location to hold down, but it was better than trying to storm with three other squads who had the same idea. It would be chaos, which was great for viewership, but not for Elliott’s health. Running into a situation like that unprepared was the perfect way to get brained, which was not on his agenda. 

The pair jogged towards the rock archway, trying to stay away from the babbling river in case people wanted to rush them. Not knowing where the other squads were always made him nervous, especially when they were specifically trying to hunt others down. He was somehow more comfortable in the ring than he had been out in the forest, but he’d gotten used to dealing with other people and on some level he understood what Hound had said about people following patterns. It was still nerve wracking running through open territory, especially when there were so many spots for people to hide. There was always the risk that someone had the same idea and were stalking him while he was preoccupied elsewhere, but having Hound on the team helped to calm that particular fear. They were known as the ‘Frontiers Greatest Tracker’ for a reason, and he was certain they’d know if something felt wrong. 

“Hey, Elliott?”

Something caught Elliott’s eye, a brief shine on the horizon, momentarily distracting him.

“Uh... yeah? What’s up?”

“Do you a-” 

_ Bang! _

Elliott snapped his head around from the source of the shots, but all he saw were Anita’s shields shattering from the impact of the bullet. She staggered forward a bit, which was the time the gunman needed to fire a second shot directly through her gut. Anita dropped, and without even thinking Elliott brought the gun up and fired. He’d found the other squadmate. They must have gotten behind them and hoped to pick each of them off, but they were standing perfectly still in their firing stance, completely exposed. 

_ Big mistake, rookie. _

His first shot missed, but the instant the trigger reset he fired again, this time landing his shot directly into their shoulder. Elliott pressed forward, rapidly gaining ground as they struggled to get the gun back up in the right position. He could see nothing but red; working on autopilot, squeezing the trigger and releasing one brutal shot after another, until they dropped to the ground in a heap. When they saw him advancing they tried to raise their arms in defense, but the bullet from the Flatline just punched through their hands and into their face. The number dropped by one, but he put another shot into their chest just to be sure. Such a move was usually said to be tasteless, since there was no fun in shooting a cadaver, but it made him feel a hell of a lot better.

“Elliott? I heard shots, what’s going on?”

Elliott pressed the mic as he tried to bring himself down, turning away from the corpse and heading back towards where Anita had fallen. He could see that she was still alive, but the alarm blaring signaled that the ring was starting to close, and using a phoenix kit would eat up a lot of valuable time.

“Hound, Anita took a gutshot from someone who got behind us. I can heal her, but I’m going to need you to cover us while she fixes herself up.”

“There is no time. We cannot wait around. Leave her.”

“ _ What _ ?”

Elliott couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His voice was full of incredulity, but Hound had just suggested the inconceivable. 

“You heard me Elliott. We do not have the time for you to start questioning me.” 

“I’m not leaving without her!”

“Then you risk dying too.”

“I don’t care!”

He was shouting now, but he wouldn’t even consider the possibility of abandoning her. She hadn’t stopped looking for him for the entire time he’d been gone, and he wasn’t enough of a piece of shit that he would just run away and let her bleed to death in a place like this. 

“Hound, I’m going for her. You go ahead if you want, but I am not going fucking anywhere without Anita.”

“Watch your mouth, Elliott.”

“Fuck. You.”

“Are you really going to make me come over there and drag you by the hair? I wanted to keep this private but I will discipline you right here and now if I need to.”

“You fucking better, because that’s the only way I’m going with you without her.”

“So be it.” 

Elliott took off at a full sprint towards Anita. He could make it there before Hound and they couldn’t take the kit from her once she’d started to use it. He didn’t want to fight with them, not after the progress they had made together, but they weren’t giving him a choice. Elliott wanted desperately to see more of the softer side they’d shown him, and to learn more about who they were as a person and what their story was. There was no doubt he would suffer greatly for this, but he’d take his punishment with pride knowing it was earned saving a friend. He’d disobeyed Hound before and his body had paid a high price, but it was worth taking if it meant Anita had a chance. Physical pain he could deal with, but losing his friend would be the end for him. 

Anita was on her back, hand weakly trying to push down on the bullethole to stem the bleeding. He skidded to a stop next to her and shoved the phoenix kit at her. “You’re gonna be okay Anita. Just use the kit and you’ll be fine.”

He wasn’t sure if he was trying to comfort himself or her, but Anita nodded weakly and pulled on it to activate the healing. Elliott knew from experience it was an uncomfortable process, but it could bring just about anyone back from the brink no matter how dire the situation seemed. 

“E-Elliott… w-”

“Shut up. Less talking more… not dying.” 

He knew how badly she was hurt when she didn’t crack a joke back. He looked up to see Hound running across the field, their guns holstered so they could come at him as quickly as they could. They were still under the archway so they had a ways to go, but Elliott braced himself for whatever torture they were about to inflict on him. They were moving fast, and as they crossed into the nearby clearing, they-

_ BANG! _

Elliott’s heart stopped beating as the shot rang out from above them. The world slowed down as he followed the line of fire from the bridge down to the clearing, right where Hound was running. 

“ _ Bloodhound _ !”

His warning was too late. 

Elliott screamed in horror as they spun from the force of the impact and hit the ground hard. It had caught them full in the face, and he’d seen the blue light of their helmet shatter into a thousand pieces. For the briefest of moments, Elliott thought they weren’t going to get back up and his breath hitched in his chest. 

_ No, nononono this isn’t happening. This can’t be fucking happening! _

Time was still stopped as he watched them, praying to see them at least twitch, or give any sign at all that they weren’t dead, that they hadn’t just been shot dead right in front of his eyes. The echo of the gunshot was impossible to hear over the roar of blood rushing through his ears, the oppressive noise only broken by the dull thudding of his heart as it began to pound once more in his chest, forcing his blood that had turned ice cold back through his veins.

Immediately he knew that he couldn’t just charge in without a plan, but if there was any possibility they were alive he needed to go get them. Even if the unthinkable had happened, he wouldn’t just leave them to cool in the grass. He could get their banner and find a nearby respawn beacon, and he didn’t care if he had to run to the other side of the map to find one. The ring was closing but he’d find one that hadn’t been used. They’d find some way to get back to the other side of the ring together, and he’d accept whatever punishment they gave him, because as long as they were alive, it didn’t matter.

Relief flooded into him as he watched them bring their left hand up to their face and curl into a ball. They weren’t right in the open, but if the sniper had hit them once he was certain they could get in another shot before Hound could crawl away. Fear surged back into him when heard the screams of pure agony coming from the hunter as they tried to pull themselves up onto their knees. Elliott’s brief moment of hope was shattered as he realized something was very, very wrong. Hound wasn’t even trying to run. They locked their hands together over their right eye and hunched forward as they screamed, forehead nearly touching the grass. If the bullet had broken through the shields then it could have gotten through their helmet, which meant they could be in serious trouble. 

He turned to Anita and knelt down to where she was sitting. She was still clutching the phoenix kit, face screwed up in pain as the wound in her gut stitched itself closed. “I have to go get Hound. They’re completely exposed, but if I haul ass I can grab them. They’re hurt, I-I don’t know how bad, b-but they took a shot to the head and I need to g-go get them.”

He cursed his stuttering for the precious time it ate up. While he was trying to force the words out, Hound was writhing in pain and completely vulnerable. They couldn’t have much time before the sniper took another shot, and he didn’t have another kit to give to them. 

“Elliott, wait!” Anita grabbed onto his sleeve before he could turn away. “Elliott, leave them behind.”

“What?”

Elliott was astonished, and made no attempt to hide the shock in his voice. That was the second time heard that phrase, and it was still as sickening as the first. Anita was the last person he’d expect to leave a squadmate behind unless the situation was extremely grim, but there was still a chance for Hound. It wasn’t hopeless, and he couldn’t start thinking about the dangers of rescuing them now or he’d never make a decision. 

Anita shifted with a grimace, her breathing heavy as she tried to ignore the pain. “Leave them. They’re in a bad spot and if they took a shot to the eye they’re useless.”

“No,” he argued, “No they’ll be fi-”

“I heard some of what that bastard said,” she growled, “They would have left me to die and I don’t feel especially bad about returning that favor. I didn’t catch all of it, but I got the gist.”

Elliott paused. Like with Anita, it hadn’t occurred to him that leaving Bloodhound was even a possibility. If they took another headshot they’d be done for, but that meant the nightmare he’d been living would end. It would all end and he’d never have to see them again or obey one of their demeaning commands. He’d never feel threatened again, or afraid of breaking some stupid rule. It could end.  _ He  _ could end it, here and now, and Anita was more than happy to help him with that.

_ Unless they don’t die… _

An even more terrifying possibility was that Hound survived and Elliott knew without a doubt that they’d come after him, and they’d definitely pay Anita a visit once they were through with him, but it wasn’t fear that was driving him. There was something else, something buried deep in his chest that demanded he save them. It wasn’t because he’d be punished otherwise, but because he  _ wanted  _ to. He’d never have to fear saying the wrong thing or speaking out of turn, but along with that came never being able to hear them speak at  _ all _ . He’d never get to experience being held like they’d done at the hotel, or hear them whispering his name to comfort him. There’d be no more night walks to the river, or sitting by the fire and falling asleep on their shoulder. Imagining a world where they’d never get to poke fun at each other again, or where he’d never get to just sit back and just exist in the same space together was abhorrent. Bloodhound had done horrible things and there was no denying that, but recently he’d seen a change. There were so many questions that he wanted answered, and so many feelings that he’d tried to suppress running rampant in his chest. He wasn’t sure what they were, but he knew that above all else he simply didn’t want them to die. Saving Bloodhound was the only thing he could think clearly about, and in that moment he would have given anything to have taken their place. 

They were stronger than he was, in both their mind and body. They wouldn’t have hesitated, listening to their instinct and finding a way to save him yet again. Anita had told him once that a soldiers instinct was the only thing they should never doubt, and something was telling Elliott that he needed to save them.

“Elliott please,” Anita said as she tugged on his sleeve, “You don’t owe them anything! You don’t need to risk your life when they wouldn’t do the same for you.”

“You’re wrong.”

She looked confused. “What?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Elliott, tone harsher than he meant it. He couldn’t even entertain the possibility of what she was saying. His mind was made up. 

“Elliott, if they’d leave me to die then they’d do the same for you.”

“No!” he yelled, anger mixed with a thousand other confusing emotions coming to a head. “Anita you don’t understand. They’ve saved my life before and now it’s my turn to save theirs.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” she asked angrily, searching his face for some kind of answer.

“All those weeks ago, do you remember what happened?” he asked, “It was the only time in the history of the games where two people survived. I was one of them, and Bloodhound was the other.”

“Elliott, you walked away from that with a broken arm and two bullet wounds, that doesn’t sound like saving your life to me.” she said, exasperated. “It sounds like you got extremely lucky!”

“No, they knew exactly where to shoot,” he gestured to the fresh wound in his arm where they’d placed the tracker. “If they hadn’t shot that tracker I’d be dead. Someone else would have found me and finished me off if they hadn’t given me the medkit, or I would have fried outside of the ring.

“I don’t know why they saved me Anita but they did. The only reason I’m standing here talking to you is because they saved me.”

“For fuck’s sake Elliott, spared isn’t the same as saved. You just admitted they  _ shot  _ you. How do you know they just didn’t miss?”

“I’m not done and you’re not listening,” he said, frustrated, “They gave me that phoenix kit, knowing damn well it would save me. And the game that they held a while ago, the one for the former champions where they set up the cave system? The one where the chemist finally got taken out?”

“Yeah but I don’t see ho-”

“Don’t you remember what I told you? I charged into those caves without thinking and I took a shot in the gut for it,” he sounded frenzied, manic, even to himself, “I would have died like all those other poor bastards if they hadn’t come for me when I fell.

“I saw people that  _ melted _ when the gas hit them,” he shook his head, “I would have laid there and died, choking and coughing up my lungs if Hound hadn’t gone after the other squad who shot at us.”

“Elliott I remember reading about that after it went down,” she just looked bewildered, confused by his determination to clear Hound’s name. “They had to scrape one of those boys off the ground after they were through with him. There was barely enough  _ left  _ for them to send back in a box. The way they described it, Hound was the only person left who could have done that. You said it yourself, they disappeared and then you could hear  _ bones breaking _ .”

“It doesn’t matter how they did it! What matters is that I’m going down there to save their ass and I’m going to do it with or without you. You can sit here if you’re okay with leaving them,  _ and _ me to go die, but I’d much rather have your help, Anita, because I’m not sure if I can do this alone.”

For a moment, Elliott was certain she’d say no and he’d have to go after them by himself, but after a tense moment of silence she sighed and stuck out her hand for him to grab. “What’s the plan then Elliott?”

Elliott hauled her to her feet and spoke quickly, not wanting to give the sniper or the ring anymore time than he already had. “There’s only one place that sniper can be.”

He pointed at the boardwalk up above them. “I need you to keep them busy until I can grab Hound. You can hide in one of the houses for cover, just shower them with fucking lead until I’m clear to go. Once I start running, smoke the fuck out of that clearing and call an airstrike so nobody follows me in case another squad runs through. I’ll haul them to the house behind the waterfall, and I’ll send out decoys on the way in so hopefully they don’t know which of me to shoot at. Sound good?” 

It was a maneuver that they’d done countless times before, but the stakes had never been this high. She nodded and picked up her gun, but Elliott grabbed her sleeve before she could leave. “Thank you, Anita.”

Anita narrowed her eyes and jabbed a finger into his chest hard enough he worried it would bruise. “You fuckin’ owe me for this Witt, and you better not ghost me after this or I swear to god I’m gonna use your ass for target practice.”

She turned away and took off in a sprint, hugging the far wall towards the building with the survey beacon, getting into a position where she could take potshots at the sniper without being out in the open. Elliott exhaled looked back out to where Hound was, praying that they hadn’t stopped moving while he’d been pleading with Anita. They’d started to drag themself towards his position with the hand that wasn’t covering their face, crawling painfully slow, but as long as they were still alive he had hope. They looked helpless, but Elliott shook the thought away and checked the ammo in his gun. The Wingman had six shots left, which he hoped would be enough to pick off anyone that got close. He couldn’t fire the Flatline one-handed, and he wouldn’t be able to reload while he was helping them, but he couldn’t waste anymore time thinking about how bad the odds were.

Hound was waiting for him.

At the sound of Anita’s Devotion letting loose, Elliott surged forward and jumped off the hill, sending a swarm of holograms out when he hit the ground and started to slide. He couldn’t duck behind cover anywhere, but if he stayed within the crowd the holograms would probably eat a shot or two for him. His shield could absorb a couple hits if they got lucky, but if Anita did her job they’d be too scared to poke their head up to fire. 

Gunfire ripped through the air loud enough to make his ears ring, but he knew he’d be in the clear from behind. There was no way the sniper was going to risk shooting him while Anita was concentrating her fire solely on them. He needed to make a beeline for Hound, and there wasn’t any time to check for anyone else hiding in the nooks and crannies of the riverbed. Taking his eyes off of them would have been a mistake, and he couldn’t risk tripping over something in the grass and falling to his knees. They simply didn’t have that kind of time. 

Anita’s smoke canister bounced to the ground beside him, and the thick, grey smoke flooded the air. It burned his lungs and made his eyes water from the sting, but a bit of pain was something he could tolerate. It was likely nothing compared to what Hound was going through, so he could suck it up until they were free and clear. 

Elliott’s muscles were on fire by the time he got to them, and he slid to a stop on the ground next to them. There was no blood anywhere on Hound or on the grass, but something was causing them enough pain that they barely seemed to register he was there. 

“Hound! Hound, it’s me! It’s Elliott!”

They looked up at him and he could see the damage that their hand couldn’t hide. Their mask had cracked and judging by the glass on the ground the right lens must have shattered, while the other was covered by a spider web of thin lines all across the glass. They clutched the right side of their face tightly and they were gnashing their teeth together to stop from screaming. 

A missile buried itself into the ground only a foot away from him. Anita had called in the airstrike, which meant they didn’t have long before they were in for a world of hurt. 

“Alright party’s over, grab my hand because we’re getting the fuck out of here.” 

Hound took one hand away from their face and reached out towards him, arm visibly shaking. “Shade,” they managed to squeeze out through gritted teeth, “Need shade.”

Elliott nodded and hauled them to their feet, hooking their arm over his shoulder as they hobbled along next to him, hand still pressed tightly over the shattered glass. He sidestepped the missiles as they rained down from the sky, practically dragging Hound along with him. They seemed to weigh even less than the last time he’d had to help them limp home from the river, and they could barely put one foot in front of the other. All their energy seemed to be focused on just staying upright, and Elliott was certain that they knew if they fell, it would all be over. He didn’t have the endurance to carry them while also dodging explosives, and they’d be nothing but a smear of blood on the grass if they got caught in the middle of the detonations. 

The first explosion shook him down to the marrow in his bones, but he could see the smoke starting to thin up ahead. The waterfall was just a short sprint away after they broke through the line, and with the amount of gunfire Anita was clearly still keeping the sniper busy. 

Elliott took in a deep breath of fresh air once they were clear of the smoke and put on a final burst of speed. Her fire had paused, which meant she was reloading and there would be a few seconds where he was out in the open. The dirt near his feet exploded as a round struck the ground, but he pressed onward and paid it no mind. Anita’s fire picked back up immediately after, and he knew he was home free. 

Once they had the cover of the rocks, Bloodhound finally collapsed, dropping to their knees and grabbing at their face once again. Elliott tried to examine them, but they kept the broken parts of their mask covered and he couldn’t see anything besides the heaving of their chest as they gasped for air.

_ There’s no blood… I don’t understand what’s wrong! _

If it had taken them in the eye there would have been all manner of gore covering their face, but he hadn’t seen any on the ground when he’d picked them up. It had hit them too directly for it to just have been a bad graze, but he wracked his brain trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with them. He didn’t have another medkit to give them and he didn’t dare pull their hand away. Elliott tried to piece together an answer with what little they’d given him, but the adrenaline still coursing through him was making it hard to think. He remembered that they’d asked for shade, and something finally clicked into place. Once it did, so much about them finally made sense. Elliott turned his face to the sky. 

_ The sun! They can’t be exposed to the sun! _

It explained why they only took their gear off in the cabin when the curtains were drawn, and why they kept a mask on when it should have hindered their vision more than helped it. If they were sensitive to the light, the smoked glass would help to protect their eyes from anything harmful. It was a cloudless day, so when their mask broke they must have gotten hit by the sunlight directly. Something so mundane felt wrong to be the weakness of someone he’d feared was unstoppable, but if even a few minutes of exposure was enough to have them crying out in pain then it must have been serious. 

Bloodhound was panting from the exertion, taking unsteady breaths as they tried to get it together. They’d ripped the bottom of their mask off so they could breathe better, and he could see how tightly they were clenching their jaw. Elliott knelt down beside them, unsure of what to do. Rules be damned because he didn’t care if he didn’t have permission to touch them, but he needed to know exactly what the problem was first. 

They were groaning loudly, in between mumbling what he assumed were curses in Icelandic. He’d heard them muttering in it to themself in the cabin, but he still didn’t have a clue what any of it meant. It sounded like they were talking to someone that he couldn’t see as they turned their face skyward, continuing their garbled speech and ignoring him completely. Their voice was raspy and laced with pain, but the intensity of it made it sound like they were pleading for their very life. It almost looked as though they were praying, begging someone he couldn’t see for something he didn’t understand.

Everyone knew of the rumors that surrounded Hound, and he’d heard of them long before he’d met them in person. Whispers that they belonged to some strange cult, that they killed in the games in the name of their long forgotten gods. Hound had never spoken on the gossip, and he’d never seen them praying in all his time at the cabin. Religion was never something he’d really been able to believe in, but the rumors were that Hound belonged to some kind of ancient sect. Obsessive fans had gathered their resources to try and determine what they belonged to, but it was something so obscure that finding information was near impossible. Admittedly, it was hard to imagine Hound praying to a higher power, admitting they were lower than something else and asking for help. They’d always seemed so invincible, not putting stock in anything besides their own abilities. 

_ “I have faith in myself, and in other things.” _

Elliott remembered their conversation back at his apartment. If they truly were praying, then the second part of what they said made sense. It helped to explain their unshakable will, and how they could carry themself without hesitation. He remembered the way their face had twisted up when he’d said it seemed like they weren’t afraid of anything, and it seemed appropriate that the only thing that could rattle Hound was the wrath of god. 

“Scarf.”

Their strained voice startled him as they turned to face him. “Scarf, give it to me.”

Elliott unwound the cloth from his neck and pulled back as they snatched it from his open hand. They whispered something into the fabric before removing their hand and tying around their head, covering their exposed eye and where the mask had fallen away before he could look at their face. 

“Are they dead?”

“What?”

“Pay attention,” they snarled, “the one who did this, are they dead?”

Elliott looked at the number that floated in the corner of his vision. “No, not yet. I told Anita to keep the sniper busy, but she hasn’t taken them out yet.”

“Good,” they hissed, still speaking through clenched teeth. “Leave them to me. This is a great insult that will not stand.”

They pulled the scarf tight behind their head and drew a knife from the sheath they had on their arm, but Elliott stood up to block their path before they could even stand. “Bloodhound, there’s no way you can see through that. You can’t go after them like this! You’re only going to get yourself killed and I’m not going to let that happen!”

They barked a laugh as they stood on shaking legs, “That is sweet, but if you think I need both my eyes to hunt these scum then clearly you do not know me well enough, Elliott. I stopped relying on my own sight years ago, and I promise you this will not be my end.” 

Something about them sounded like it had shattered alongside the glass, like they’d shed off what remaining bits of humanity they had left and what was left behind was something  _ feral _ . It was frightening, and Elliott realized this was the clearest view of the beast inside them that he’d ever seen. It was more than their insults or the savage rage that he’d seen before, more than the shadow that loomed over him wherever he went. This was what was hidden behind that facade, and it was truly something that belonged in a nightmare. The smile on their face was grotesque, and he couldn’t look at it for very long without dread creeping into his stomach. They were barely restraining themself, and Elliott knew whatever poor bastard that was going to be on the receiving end of their fury was going to suffer. 

“Do not follow me Kær. You are braver than I gave you credit for, but I wish to spare you from having to witness what I am going to do to them. Go back to Anita, it is safe for you there.”

“Wait!”

Elliott rummaged through his pack until he found the shield battery he’d gotten at the beginning of the match. “Take this. Your helmet’s fucked, so you’ll need it more than I do if your body shield is broken.”

He practically shoved it into their arms, but Hound accepted it and started repairing their body armor.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked, voice shaky. He scared, not of them, but  _ for _ them. They clearly weren’t okay, but he still needed them to reassure him. He knew he should have been the one offering his shoulder for them to lean on more, but the threat of losing them had shaken him to his very core. Somehow, if Hound told him it would be okay, he could believe that it would be, no matter how impossible it seemed. Hound was confusing and downright impossible to figure out, but there was no doubt in his mind that they wouldn’t lie to him now. Their word was gospel, and he was in dire need of a sermon. 

“This pain is nothing, a reminder that I must not allow myself to become distracted and nothing more,” they said, standing up straight and steadying themself. They hesitated for a moment like they were going to say something else, but instead they grabbed Elliott by his chest rig and pulled him in for a kiss. 

_ Fuck it. _

Elliott wrapped his arms around them and kept them close, desperate to hold onto them for as long as he could. He didn’t care that they were at risk of being seen by the cameras and the shitstorm that would follow if they were, he just needed to be close to them. They were his pillar of strength as always, and their hand on his cheek was all the reassurance he needed. This kiss wasn’t full of rage like he’d expected, but rather it helped to soothe his frayed nerves and distract him from the madness going on around him. This he knew how to do. He knew how to kiss them and how easy it was to get lost in the familiar smell of woodsmoke, and he was grateful that they spared a moment to calm him down. They were still in control. They may have been a monster, but they were a monster he knew well. He knew all the little human thing they did that showed they were still the person that he knew, despite the fury he was sure was burning under their skin. Although he was afraid this would be the last time they’d get to hold him, it reignited the fire in his chest that demanded he keep going, no matter what happened. They’d come out on the other side of this together, like they always did. 

Bloodhound pulled away from his mouth and pressed a final kiss to his forehead, their lips lingering for just long enough that he hoped that they’d come to their senses and get the hell out of there together, but he’d already been granted one miracle that day and didn’t want to push for another. They broke away from him, but Elliott grabbed their shoulder and looked up at them, pleading with his eyes that they understood how serious he was.

“Come back to me.” 

Hound smiled, but it was warm. They squeezed his hand reassuringly and stepped back. “Don’t you remember what I told you? I will find you wherever you go, so I swear to you Kær, I will find you again before this is all over. Go to Anita and do not worry about me, I will be fine.”

They walked backwards and put the bottom of the mask in place, sparing him one last look before they turned and ran back towards the sniper. 

“And besides Elliott, I have the gods on my side, and it seems they have a plan for me yet.” 

_ 

“How much ammo do you have?”

Elliott patted his chest rig. “One magazine. The Wingman is empty. What about you?” 

Anita sighed. “Two for the Devotion, one for the Carbine plus the ten in the magazine.”

“Gonna have to make ‘em count, then.” 

Airbase had been stripped clean, likely by the first squad that landed in the area. There weren’t even bodies that they could pick off of, but the ring was closing fast and Hound still hadn’t made an appearance. They were standing side by side, each one pointing the barrel of their guns at a door. There were too many entrances for them to cover, so they chose a side and focused on where the enemy was most likely going to come in. They had cover, but their backs were to the ocean. The number indicated it was down to them and at least one full squad, in which case, the enemy had the advantage of numbers. 

Hound would even the fight, but they hadn’t made a sound on the comms or shown their face since he’d left them with the sniper. He’d been on edge the entire time, and with the amount of time it took for the number to change, Elliott knew Hound had been right about him not being able to handle whatever they did to that poor bastard. They’d taken it slow, but that meant they were likely stuck outside of the ring, trying to find their way back inside. They couldn’t have had that much energy left, but their icon still signaled that they were alive, so he just had to hope they would get there in one piece. 

“Hey, Elliott?”

“Yeah?”

“I just want you to know that if I die here and you don’t, I’m gonna haunt your sorry ass ‘till kingdom come. Got that?”

Despite how god awful their chances looked, Elliott couldn’t help but chuckle. “Duly noted. I don’t think I’ve ever been so motivated to live in my entire life.” 

“Nice knowing my death would really tear you up.”

“Nah, I’d just find someone who’s actually nice to me.” 

“C’mon, I’m nice to you. Remember how I didn’t kick your ass that night at the bar when you spilled a drink on the girl I was flirting with?”

“Yup. I also remember you walking away that night with the girl  _ I  _ was flirting with, so clearly you weren’t hurting that bad. Y’know, that’s only funny when you do it to other people.” 

“Payback’s a bitch. Not that you have to worry about that anymore.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about your girlfriend. Took you long enough. Still can’t believe it, to be honest.”

Anita took her eyes off of the door to glare at him. “Yeah well she’ll be pissed if I die, so you better watch my back.”

He whistled. “Man, must be one hell of a woman to terrify the mighty Bangalore.”

“I’m not  _ that _ scary. Maybe you’re just a pu- hold on.” 

Elliott readjusted his grip on the Flatline. “Movement?”

“Yeah, I thought I saw something on the roof.”

Elliott’s eyes flicked back to his own door for only a second, but it was enough time to see someone leaning out with a Spitfire aimed at his head.

“Company, ten o’clock!”

He fired once, but the bullet ricocheted off the side of the building and missed its mark. 

“Shit, I’ve got one too!” 

“Where’s the third?” 

He couldn’t risk taking his eyes off of the doorway to look around. “Fuck if I know, but if my hunch is right they’ll be up on the roof.”

_ Bang! _

Elliott jumped a foot in the air as a bullet struck the tarmac in front of him.

“Witt you son of a bitch, you fucking jinxed it!”

“Less talk, more shooting!”

“Shit, I can’t hit them from here!”

Cursing, he fired another shot at the doorway, forcing the other person to retreat again. Anita was firing too, switching between her doorway and the roof. They could keep dodging until they’d wasted all their ammo, and then they’d be even more screwed. “Get back! If we hide behind cover then they’ll have to come to us!”

“Then we’re pinned!”

“You got any other ideas because I’d really love to hear them right about now Anita!”

“Fuck! Move back!”

She didn’t have to tell him twice. Elliott backpedaled, firing at the man whenever he’d try to stick the barrel of his gun out of the door. He leaped to the side just in time to dodge a bullet that would have hit him square in the chest. Anita was more controlled, but judging by the sweat on her brow it was taking all she had. She got to cover first and soon followed, firing the last shot in his magazine for good measure before ducking into the structure. 

He tried to peek around the doorway, but quickly retracted when a bullet whizzed by his ear. He pressed himself against the metal and threw the empty magazine to the side. Anita was busy swearing loudly, trying to clear a casing that hadn’t ejected properly. 

Once again, Elliott found himself with a deep hatred towards long-range shooters. With the sniper in place there was nowhere to go, and without the suppressing fire the other two could close in on them. It was borderline cheating in his opinion, but he didn’t have anyone he could really complain about it to. There was a chance they could walk away, but judging by the way things were going, it wasn’t a great one. They’d need a miracle at this point, but Elliott was starting to feel like lady luck had finally had enough of his begging. 

“Elliott, wait a minute. Do you hear that?”

He stopped and put his ear as close to the entranceway as he dared. There was still shooting going on, but it was mixed with the sounds of angry shouting, and it was no longer aimed at them. 

“What the fuck?”

Elliott’s heart leapt into his throat. His eyes shot to the number in front of him. 

It hadn’t gone down, which meant one of them was still unaccounted for.

Feeling brave, he stuck his head out of the structure and couldn’t help but laugh in complete disbelief. 

Hound was standing on the roof, and he’d looked up just in time to see them open the throat of the sniper and kick the carcass off of the roof. The other two competitors were completely focussed on them, which gave the pair of them the out they needed. 

“Anita! It’s Hound!”

He jabbed at the air, pointing frantically at the spot where they stood, Longbow in hand. 

“What are you talking about? Elliott that can’t be them, it’s got to be a rogue. We h-”

“Shut up and look!” 

Elliott grabbed her by her collar and yanked her into the entranceway. “Look!”

“Oh you have got to be kidding me.” 

Anita looked as though she was disappointed that Hound was still alive, and although he didn’t blame her, he was too ecstatic to really care what she thought. He punched their excitedly and and cheered.

“Hound, you beautiful bastard!” 

_ I knew it! I knew they wouldn’t lie to me! _

He swung his arm, beckoning Anita forward. “Come on, this our chance!”

Elliott felt like he was high as he charged towards the man with the Spitfire. He was buzzing with so much excitement it felt like he was going vibrate out of his own skin, but the fun wasn’t quite over yet. Hound could only focus on one enemy at a time, and although they managed to hit one of the men, it wasn’t enough to break their shields. They’d given him and Anita a few seconds to get out, but now they had to do something or Hound was a sitting duck. 

Spitfire dude was already climbing up the metal stairs, but Elliott had never been so grateful for the shitty grating in his life. He fired through the metal and straight into the man’s foot, dropping him with a shriek of pain. Now that he wasn’t moving, Hound could properly aim and take him down. The back of his head exploded, and Elliott had never been so thrilled about someone dying. It was a strange experience, to be so overjoyed while he was actively shooting to kill, but the rush of energy at seeing the carnage was akin to the night they’d gone hunting together. That night flashed before his eyes, and he remembered the warmth as they’d painted his body with the blood of the creature. It wasn’t the same kind of energy, but it had the same intensity, and there was only one person standing in the way of him indulging himself. 

Hound was still firing the Longbow, this time striking the man Anita had been facing in the lower back. He crumbled, and Anita squeezed the trigger one final time, blowing a hole the size of a baseball through his chest. She fell to her knees and threw the Devotion aside, panting but staring up at the sky with a smile. He wanted to run over and wrap her up in a hug, but a certain someone else had his attention.

Elliott raced up the stairs, nearly tripping over his own feet trying to get to the top. Hound met him halfway on one of the landings, and the look of surprise on their face as he threw himself at them was enough to bring tears of relief to his eyes. He didn’t give a damn about the punishment they’d promised, because he was overcome with a euphoria that he couldn’t quite describe. He squeezed them tightly, crushing the air from them, too afraid of what would happen if he let go. He was laughing into their chest, unable to believe everything that had happened. Their clothes were soaked with the blood of the other competitors, but the coppery smell was as comforting as the woodsmoke to him. 

He could hear the airship overhead flying in, ready to pick up the champions and carry them away to safety, but hidden in the shadow of the staircase, they had a moment alone. 

Elliott pushed his face further into their chest. “You came back, just like you said you would.”

“I would not lie to you, Kær. I…” 

Elliott held his breath in anticipation, unsure of what he was hoping for, but he knew he’d be happy with whatever it was they had to say. He pulled back and looked up at them, leaning into the hand they placed on his cheek.

“I…” 

“What? What is it?”

Alarm bells in his mind were sounding. Hound wasn’t saying anything, just standing still staring at him. 

“Hound? Hound, what’s wrong?”

“Elliott…” 

Elliott cried out in alarm as Hound fell forward into his arms, their body gone completely limp. He couldn’t support their full weight, and he fell to the ground and bashed his knees into the metal platform. 

“Hound?!  _ Hound!” _

Elliott looked around, panic flooding into his chest. The ship had landed, and he could see Anita surrounded by a swarm of personnel, checking her for injuries and taking the gear that wasn’t hers. 

“Medic! I need a medic!”

He screamed as loudly as he could, the cry for help ripping itself out of his chest. Some of the men heard him and called out to the medical team. They took the stairs two at a time until they were kneeling next to Elliott, shoving question after question in his face. 

“Are they breathing?”

“Did you check for a pulse?”

“Where are they wounded?”

He wanted to scream at them too, beg them to stop yelling at him so he could focus. Hound wasn’t moving, and he couldn’t feel them breathing. “I-I don’t know. T-they just collapsed, I-I don’t know what’s wrong!”

“Take their mask off, we can’t do any-”

“No!”

He wasn’t sure where the protest had come from, but he knew enough to trust his gut. “No, you can’t take it off!”

“Mr. Witt, we need access to their airway. If they’re not breathing, then they will die, and we can’t help them through all of their gear.”

Elliott hugged them possessively, determined to keep them away from Hound. “I said no!”

One of the medics called over their shoulder. “He’s having an episode. I need a sedative, now!”

_ No _

Elliott could only think of one thing he could do. He grabbed the Flatline with a free hand and pointed it at the team. They all stepped back, hands in the air. “S-stay back. You’re not taking their mask off, I won’t let you!”

“Mr. Witt, please. You’re only making this harder for them. They need help, if you don’t let us do our job they could  _ die _ .”

_ No _

Elliott hesitated, but it was all the team needed. One grabbed the barrel of the gun and pushed it sideways, knocking it off course. He couldn’t hold it properly, so it clattered to the ground and he was left with nothing. He wrapped his arms around their back, determined to hang onto them no matter what happened. They’d come for him when he’d needed them to, so he wasn’t going to let their body go into the hands of people who didn’t know them. It was all he could do for them, to keep their secret safe because on some level he knew that was what they would have wanted. 

He closed his eyes as the other medics advanced, fighting back tears as something sharp stabbed into his arm. He wasn’t going to let go of them until the end, even if they had to pry his unconscious body off of them. They’d protected him so many times, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to fight off whatever drugs they were giving him.

Elliott lifted his head and leaned against theirs, getting his mouth next to their ear. Tears burned his eyes, and he knew he was going to fail them. He was powerless as always, but at least he knew what to say. There was only one thing he could say before he was wrenched away from them, something he didn’t need their weeks of training to know how to say. 

_ “I’m sorry.”  _

**Author's Note:**

> READ ME READ ME READ ME!!!!!!
> 
> Okay so this is the last update as a series, because I'm going to start this as a chaptered work instead. These chapters will stay up as the series, but I am going to repost all the chapters into one singular fic, and then update that from now on. This will keep it all together, and make the project I'm going to work on after Lessons a lot neater as well (you'll find out what that is at a later date). This way I'm also not spamming the tags. 
> 
> That's all the important technical stuff so hi how are y'all this update is actually ahead of schedule!! Look at lil ol me, keeping up the pace!! I'm proud of myself at least. 
> 
> I've been playing a lot of Lovecraft inspired games and so far I'm really bad at them! Sinking City is v hard so honestly I might go back and replay RE2 and finish the bajillion RE2 fic ideas I have. Also a lovely member of the discord gave me a wicked idea that I might do as a one shot that's insanely brutal so stay tuned for "Percy Tries To Write AFAB People For The First Time". 
> 
> Speaking of discord! Come hang out, my beta and I have an awesome 18+ Apex server for fans of this series and any other dark fics, so join us!! It's the best way to get updates on this series and talk to me about cool ideas! https://discord.gg/xNkTyCV


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